If my head was a hive, it would buzz with anticipation. In fact, I heard that sound. Moreover, I felt it. It was like being stung by a thousand bees.
When something hurts, and most often my head, neck and middle part of the spine hurt, I don't think "the draft killed me" (although I often sit on the draft, and the cold concrete is not foreign to me), but "where am I stuck now" . I advocate the theory (and, by God, practice) with full responsibility, that painful sensations are the result of a painful internal charge - emotional sediment, psychological pressure, mental suffering. I have a lot of opportunities to experiment on myself, because my weak points often hurt me and remind me that I have to better maintain the temple of my soul and its regional departments.
Sometimes I am burdened by this "full responsibility", when I take care of those close to me and try to help them, and I know that I can do nothing for them and that the best thing I can do for them is to know that they will be able to do it themselves. to help myself, to leave their responsibilities to them, and to let my patronizing urges go in three beautiful ways. Sometimes I get stiff from it, not from sitting crookedly in an armchair, with a laptop in my lap. The amplifier of my inner voice tells me "responsibility should not burden" and then I immediately know what it should be - to be accepted with joy and curiosity. I can help, in the same way that people help me - to hear, to feel and understand and to answer a question. If the question is missing, I offer answers in vain. My understanding and cognition must resonate with someone’s need for understanding and cognition. When that is not the case, I take on the responsibility that the other person must have for themselves, and that is a burden that I cannot and should not carry.
Yet, like any empathetic fool, I often pick it up and carry it around, while flashbacks flash through my back. Lower, lower, lower, whisper my inner voice as I turn around, not seeing what I need to lower - like Obelix, when they ask him "is it hard for you to wear that stećak tombstone", and he starts to turn and he stares around and says "which stećak?". It's just that I didn't fall into the cauldron with the magic potion, so I feel that weight, even though I forget that I can and should lower it.
"Yeah, that stećak," says my inner voice, when I ask for help and get an answer. And then I go down, and I'm relieved, but after a while I load up again - I just need to understand less what stings and stings me and sometimes I manage to help myself. And I'm really happy when I succeed. The last time something stabbed me between the shoulders, help was not available, so I had to get angry that no one on hand had the guts to kneel my middle back with my knee and pull my shoulders back (a maneuver that provides instant relief) and to talk to my inner voice on my own. Let's see, it is the cardiac energy center, the back, that is, the voluntary emotional aspect. What do I want with my feelings, but I can't? Ah, I want not to feel, what I feel. Well, he can't. I feel it. I'm letting go. It worked, jeeeee!
And the case of the hive was a school example - the day before the basket hurt me… I mean, my head, a friend complained of a headache, and I told her that her head was like a hive and she just didn't burst from buzzing. And then mine buzzed, so I immediately remembered the diagnosis. What makes me noise (and anger)? Ah, expectations, expectations, expectations, in angry swarms. And where there are expectations, there is frustration, and where expectations are frustrated, there is a hive in the head. Bees outside, pollinate some flowers, heart some honey, do something useful, you have no work here.
Put it down, let it go, let it go, hug it, let go - that's how I chant it, all the time, and when I focus, then I know what it means and how to do it.
And now I expect you to jump and open the chakras and hives, free your mind and accept your emotions, because I told you an instructive story. I'm kidding. At his own expense. And by God, to yours too.
